


First Watch

by pantswarrior



Series: The Cultists' Cycle [2]
Category: Vagrant Story
Genre: M/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-06
Updated: 2010-02-06
Packaged: 2017-10-07 01:32:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pantswarrior/pseuds/pantswarrior
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A poststory for Burning Bridges, PWPish. Despite having made his decision, Hardin still needs some time before he can entirely come to terms with what he's chosen. Sydney, however, provides good incentive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Watch

"I'm going to sleep now."

The words, softly spoken, hung in the silence between them. It was not quite a statement, not quite a question; for the life of him, Hardin wasn't sure which it might be, if either. Somehow the fact it had even been spoken aloud seemed to make it more a glaring challenge than anything.

Sydney knew this, of course. Despite his casual stance and the neutral look on his face, he'd chosen to speak it in just such a way as to make Hardin think. He could have gone to his blankets already if he was tired. Instead he remained standing at the other end of the log that had been pulled up to the campfire to serve as a seat. Most of the brethren had already gone to their blankets and bedrolls, though a few still passed between the fires, busying themselves with various tasks. Sydney, however, remained still. There was no indication that he was waiting for anything, but he clearly was. He wanted an answer.

After the vow he'd spoken early that morning, Hardin wished Sydney would just do away with the formalities and give him the answer that he was expected to give. He had no idea what it was.

Sydney did not seem to have any intention of leaving until he received it, however, and Hardin struggled for something that would be neither too forward or too insulting. "I... thought that I might keep the first watch. The brethren are weary, and I do have a gift for it."

The rueful clicking of Sydney's tongue told Hardin that was not the right answer. "By the time first watch ends, you'd have been awake for an entire day," he pointed out. "After what you have already put yourself through for their sake, I believe our brethren would not allow you to take the first watch."

"Perhaps the second, then." The response was automatic more than anything, and he knew as soon as he spoke it that it was not the right answer either.

Sydney seemed to agree, for he shook his head slightly. "Nor the second."

Again they were at a standstill, unmoving and undecided. Hardin was undecided, anyhow - undoubtedly, Sydney already knew exactly what he wanted, and was only testing. Testing what, was the question. Just how far did Sydney intend to take that vow Hardin had given him?

The silence was finally broken by a quiet chuckle. "Though the oath you offered this morning seemed to say otherwise, it seems you've grown a bit more prudish in the few days we've been apart," Sydney observed. "Or should I say nights - we've shared blankets before, Hardin."

That narrowed matters down a bit, and Hardin stifled a sigh of relief, even if he couldn't quite put a finger on why the answer seemed no less difficult to find. "Yes... we have."

"And you do know that I prefer not to sleep alone." Sydney was giving him hints, it seemed, but he was not going to make it easy. "Perhaps you'd rather I shared another's bedding tonight, then." Almost immediately, a bemused smile touched his lips. "I see - so perhaps not."

Hardin hadn't had the time to react outwardly with even so much as a frown, but such things weren't necessary for Sydney. He frowned now regardless, and gave in. "You want me to join you, then?"

"Only if you'd like to."

And that was the answer it was taking Hardin so long to find. Before, they had been only two men, if one was particularly remarkable among men. They'd had no obligations to one another, and nothing had been said that would indicate that more should happen between them than the sharing of blankets.

He'd enjoyed having Sydney nestled against his side through the night, and waking up to that warm weight of another person in his arms. He'd felt blessed to watch someone so powerful and so dangerous as Sydney lie in innocent, harmless slumber. There was no denying that he would indeed like to experience it again, but the past two days' events had complicated things just a bit.

He imagined Sydney could read him easily enough without the use of the Dark. "It is your choice," the mage repeated, still smiling faintly. "Not an order."

That solved half the problem, much to Hardin's relief. But then, of all the honest words he'd spoken to Sydney since they'd caught up with each other again, the vow he'd made was perhaps the least relevant and the least frightening when it came to something like sharing blankets.

He'd not been allowed to say what he wished to say in so many words, however. Technically, nothing had changed between them - even if Sydney did know the thoughts of his heart that had gone unspoken, he refused to acknowledge them. And beyond all the technicalities and implications, there was undeniable honesty. He was being absurd, Hardin realized, for the answer was foolishly simple; "May I join you, then?"

Sydney's permission had already been given, and now was reiterated only in the satisfied smirk. As if he'd won, Hardin thought - but they were both getting what they wanted, weren't they?

Maybe so, but Hardin still felt a shiver of uneasiness as he watched the mage turn to leave. Sydney's movements seemed to have more flourish, and his step more sway as he picked his steps carefully through the near-darkness, between the dying fires and the bedrolls nearby where some already slept. It could have been Hardin's imagination, he thought as he gathered his things - or Sydney could be doing it on purpose.

Sydney had not told him where he intended to sleep, but Hardin's talent made it simple enough to find him. Just as so many times before, he'd unrolled his blankets a short distance from the clearing in which the brethren had set up camp, in a slightly thicker part of the forest. It was far enough to offer some privacy, but close enough to be ready if something should happen. Not that it was likely the Blades should happen upon them by night, particularly with Sydney's safeguards in place against such things, but Hardin agreed that one could never be too careful. In fact, along with his own blankets, he had brought the sword he'd plundered from one of the knights he'd slain.

He lay it down beside the blankets Sydney had already spread, upon the other side of which the mage sat waiting, eyes fixed on him as he knelt, unrolling his own blankets to add to Sydney's. This was not anything new, he reminded himself as he silently assisted Sydney in removing his boots, then turned to unlacing his own. This was a procedure they'd gone through several times before. There was a different feeling about it this time, however, and Hardin found himself grateful that they'd opted to sleep fully dressed (or at the least, mostly dressed - the shirt Sydney wore was loose and unbuttoned) for the time being, in case of emergency - it would have been more uncomfortable to undress before Sydney now that they both knew how he felt.

Sydney showed no signs of awkwardness as he pulled back the blankets to lie down - of course not, Hardin thought, for Sydney had a way about him that made anything he did seem perfectly natural and premeditated. Hardin tried to follow his lead, extending his arm along the rolled cloths that would serve as their pillow, shifting slightly to find the most comfortable position for them both as Sydney settled in beside him.

This was not strange, Hardin reminded himself again as he stared up into the trees, still unable to relax entirely. This was not something he'd never done before, even if the feel of Sydney's head on his arm and the softness of his breathing seemed to carry so much more weight this time. Just because he'd admitted to feeling something more for Sydney than duty, or even more than friendly concern, it did not mean that things necessarily would be different now.

So was he worried more about them becoming different, or not becoming different, he wondered. There had been a few occasions already when he'd wished for more than this simple comfort, even the morning after that first night he'd held Sydney in his arms, at the duke's manor...

Thinking back to that night, he couldn't help drawing Sydney closer against him, placing an arm protectively across his waist. Remembering that Sydney still was a person, that he was not meant to be put on a pedestal, that he had problems - it made Hardin relax somewhat. As Sydney shifted, accustoming himself to the change of position, Hardin turned his head to press his lips against Sydney's temple, kissing him softly.

The reply he received was the quiet sound of metal sliding free from cloth, as Sydney raised his hand to Hardin's cheek. The touch of his bladed fingers was gentle, albeit eerie, and only the subtlest urging was needed for Hardin to incline his head as it coaxed him downward to meet Sydney's.

The kiss was likewise gentle, though for an instant Hardin's thoughts recoiled from it. Before, their kisses had always been in the heat of the moment, rather than a conscious choice, and this time he had a chance to think about it. _I am kissing another man..._ The disgust came from years of social reinforcement and stigmatization, rather than the act itself, and Hardin tried to put it aside in favor of defiance. Again, it was not the first time he had done so. _...And if anyone thinks less of me for it, they're a fool._

He could feel Sydney's lips smiling against his own, and wondered if it was patronizing amusement or approval for the stray thought that had caused the mage to smile. Either way, the need to prove that he was serious drove him to kiss Sydney again, his defiance prompting a harder, firmer kiss than the one before. Sydney matched it easily, and with an uncanny finesse - of course, Hardin thought, he'd had plenty of practice, where the few romantic affairs Hardin had had time for were some time ago, and not very frequent.

They rested their heads against one another when the kiss ended, close enough to feel each other's exhalations, and Hardin found himself looking deep into dark grey eyes, bottomless glittering black in the night. His breath caught in his throat as suddenly he became aware of just how long ago any of his previous affairs had been, much less one so intimate that he'd lain in bed with another, arms around each other and exchanging casual kisses.

It had been a _long_ time.

Hardin tensed, willing himself not to move, as uncomfortable as he suddenly was - he couldn't trust himself to make any motion that was innocent. No matter how long it had been, no matter his feelings for Sydney, and how much he _wanted_ him all of a sudden, it was not his right. Despite all they'd shared in the months since they'd met, he had no place to stir up such things.

Sydney's eyes held him fast, hindering his efforts to ignore his discomfort. "You do realize," he murmured quietly, the tip of one claw idly twirling through Hardin's short hair, "that I am no blushing maiden."

The feel of metal pricking his scalp was distracting, and strangely fascinating. "Yes..."

Cool steel rested against his cheek as Sydney lowered his hand, the closest he could come to a fond caress. "On the contrary..."

"Yes..." Hardin acknowledged again, giving in to the urge to stroke Sydney's cheek as well. The mage was tempting him, he realized - and doing a very good job of it.

Sydney gave him a smirk. "Yes...?" he teased.

Hardin's helpless chuckle turned to a gasp as one of Sydney's knees slid between his own, wedging his thigh tight against Hardin's groin. The unexpected pressure added to his growing discomfort, and he couldn't help but cringe at the realization that Sydney must know exactly what his touch was doing. Again there was a sense of shame, but Hardin tried to fight it, knowing that it was only because it had been deeply instilled in him through his years as a proper gentleman and a soldier.

Indeed Sydney did know exactly what he was doing to Hardin, and his smirk grew larger as he took it one step further, rolling on top of the other man and bracing himself with hands on Hardin's shoulders. He raised an inquisitive eyebrow, reminding Hardin that he'd never answered the question.

Hardin wavered for only a moment, his desire far outweighing the instinctive revulsion. "Yes, yes..." he whispered, relishing the sight of Sydney in the moonlight, leaning over him, his shirt hanging open to expose his chest.

The sight didn't last long, as Sydney leaned in closer to kiss him again, balancing himself on Hardin's shoulders as he teased Hardin's lips apart with his tongue. Accepting it hungrily, Hardin let his hands rise to slip beneath the fabric of Sydney's shirt, for the first time consciously daring to touch him as a lover, and found that the skin of his chest and waist and back was as smooth and soft as he'd expected. He felt as thin as he looked as well; Hardin could feel the ribs easily beneath the skin, and the sharpness of the tops of his hips. His thighs were thin and firm, seemingly little more than bones and perhaps a little hard muscle beneath the leather pants, and somehow Hardin found it fascinating.

First things first, however, and Hardin took hold of the collar of Sydney's shirt, pushing it back to help Sydney shrug out of it. His own shirt was to follow quickly, as Sydney simply slit the cords at the neck with one of his claws. It made Hardin laugh quietly, as breathless as he was already. "A bit impatient?" he muttered, as he raised his arms so that Sydney could tug the shirt over his head.

Sydney shook his head, though his breath was already quickened also, and he pulled back slightly to regard Hardin with amusement. "I could wait, if you'd rather."

Staring up at him, Hardin found he was in no hurry. "...I could be content to simply look at you for some time."

The slight smirk on Sydney's lips faded, leaving his face perfectly blank, and Hardin wondered if he'd said something wrong. Before he had the chance to apologize, he found that option had been stolen from him; his mouth was covered by Sydney's, and the only action he could now take was to return the kiss, and let his hands glide over the smoothness of Sydney's back. They came to rest at his waist, gripping it firmly in an effort to keep them from straying lower, as they longed to.

Sydney recognized the gesture and laughed into the kiss. "There is no need to play the gentleman with me, Sir Hardin," he teased, nuzzling along Hardin's cheek, following the line of his jaw to his ear. His breath was warm as he whispered, almost hissed, and Hardin froze at the sudden chilling tone. "...I can see the lust within you."

The reminder of Sydney's power caused Hardin's hands to clench tighter upon Sydney's waist, and he lay stiff and motionless beneath the mage's onslaught of sensation. It was nothing he did not already know, but somehow under the circumstances, the idea that Sydney knew what he was feeling - knew what he was thinking - at that very moment terrified him nearly as much as it had when he'd first learned of Sydney's abilities. Or perhaps, he admitted to himself, it was not so much terror as something else.

It was one thing to feel the things he felt, to think the things he thought, and to want the things he now wanted so badly. It was another thing entirely, and his shame far greater, to know that another knew every detail.

He could feel his face flushing slightly as Sydney drew back just far enough to eye him with an eerie interest. Trying to keep some sense of dignity, he sought to explain. "I... I was raised in a... a certain way," he began carefully. To be a good citizen, to be polite and well-mannered, to be considerate of a potential lover...

Sydney smirked at the unspoken words, leaning forward again to brush his lips over the hollow at Hardin's collarbone, and moving slowly down his chest. "And what has behaving yourself gotten you in the end?" he pointed out. "By all means... be every bit as ungentlemanly..." The soft-spoken words were accented with another soft brush of the lips, just below the navel. "...As you wish."

The last three words were nearly inaudible to Hardin's ears through the groan that burst from his throat at the surprisingly tender kiss. "Sy... Sydney..."

With Sydney having drawn back, Hardin's hands now clutched at his shoulders rather than his hips, and despite the strange feel of metal rather than flesh, Hardin's fingers tightened on them as he discovered that Sydney was definitely not intending to act in a gentlemanly manner himself. The blades of his fingers trailing over Hardin's sides, Sydney continued his work, and Hardin wondered how on earth the mage knew so well just what to do. Perhaps it came from experience, and Hardin felt his blood burn hotter as his imagination filled in the details of the logical conclusion of that thought. No doubt Sydney had had plenty of lovers, even aside from those Hardin already knew about, and some of them probably knew better how to please a man rather well themselves.

His thoughts were cut off in a rush of pleasureable frustration as he felt the pressure of Sydney's lips through his pants, placed precisely at the epicenter of the heat rushing through his body, and his fingers grasped desperately at Sydney's hair instead, whether to ground himself or to encourage Sydney to stay in just that spot, he wasn't sure.

Feeling Hardin writhing beneath him, Sydney glanced up and smirked. "It is more enjoyable with the pants removed."

"I can imagine," Hardin breathed. Would Sydney expect this same treatment, when Hardin was so inexperienced, at least with this particular kind of lovemaking?

"Not to worry," Sydney assured him softly, moving over him once more, and placing one claw upon Hardin's lips. "In time you will learn what pleases me, provided that you wish to learn..." Leaning in closer, he smirked again. "I think that you will find the lessons entertaining."

His hair still twined around Hardin's hands, and Hardin wondered who had ensnared who. Unable to bear it, he pulled Sydney down to him, his fingers locking over the back of Sydney's head, to hold him in a kiss that left him gasping for breath when it ended.

Sydney seemed much more in control of himself, unsurprisingly, and when Hardin opened his eyes again, he found Sydney's eyes burning into him with a cold fire, through the tangled blond strands that had fallen over his face. It took only a moment for Hardin to realize what he'd done, and he let his hands slide free immediately. "Gods! Sydney, I'm-"

"No need for apologies, Hardin," Sydney cut him off, not moving away in the slightest now that he could. He smiled, and Hardin couldn't be sure whether he was enthralled or terrified by the way Sydney showed his teeth, almost baring them hungrily. "I told you to be ungentlemanly, if it pleased you." He paused. "...It's been a very long time, hasn't it?"

Sydney was goading him now. And in that light, Hardin thought, he might as well take Sydney up on that offer - it was beginning to look nearly unavoidable anyhow.

One hand went to the back of Sydney's head, again tangling in his hair as they kissed, and the other pulled him closer as Hardin rolled over, placing Sydney beneath him. One knee was already between Sydney's, and he shoved the other between as well, with far more impatience than he'd ever have shown with a woman. Sydney responded much as Hardin would have expected, wrapping thin legs around his waist, though he kept his hands down, where they could pose no danger.

Hardin made up for that himself, bracing himself on one arm and freeing the other to grasp at Sydney's shoulderblade, stroke along his ribs, and cup over the curve of his hip beneath the leather pants. He had to do something about that, he supposed, half lost in Sydney's insistent kiss; Sydney's shameless attentions earlier had left him feeling that pants were a rather uncomfortable option at the moment.

With that in mind, he let his free hand slide between the leather and skin at Sydney's hip. The cords that held his pants closed were loosened by the pressure, allowing him to slip his hand down further, working between his legs as Sydney sighed softly into the kiss.

It was then that Hardin froze, realizing what he was touching. Women he was familiar with, if not overly so, and the feel of hard heat against his hand instead of soft warmth beneath his fingers was a sharp reminder that he was not with a woman, but a man.

Before he could stop himself, he'd drawn back his hand instinctively, pulling away in another sudden jolt of revulsion to leave the warmth of the blankets to sit beside them instead. Putting the other hand to his head, trying to steady himself, he stared down at his fingers. This was not wrong, he told himself firmly. It was just different, and even if he'd been told something all his life, as a singular truth, already he knew he'd been lied to any number of times. He'd seen and done plenty of things in the last months that he'd never have dared to even consider as an option before he'd been imprisoned...

He felt a chill down his spine suddenly, and looked up to find Sydney's eyes on him, perfectly calm, but with a cold edge that made him shiver.

Staring back at him helplessly, Hardin searched for something to say, his mind running over every excuse he had for pulling away. They all seemed unimportant when he thought of saying them out loud - society's standards and his family's expectations, the crude jokes of other soldiers throughout his time in the PeaceGuard, fear of his inexperience vying with fear of losing control - and the best he could manage as he looked away in shame was a mumbled "...I'm sorry."

He looked back after a moment, only to find Sydney regarding him with the same calm expression, and realized that he had no need to explain himself - Sydney already had heard it all within his heart.

"Please, Hardin - I'm not insulted, not by any stretch of the imagination." Despite his mussed hair and the shirt hanging off his forearms where he'd begun to put it back on, Sydney's demeanor was as cool and composed as it ever was. "I've lived in the same world you have; I know what this land and its people can do to a man as well as you do."

"...Thank you." Hardin closed his eyes, breathing a bit easier and, in time, forcing himself into calmness again.

Sydney had been right earlier in forbidding him to take the first watch, because without the rush of desire running through his body, he found he was quite tired. Sydney was already lying down again when Hardin turned back, though his eyes flickered open as Hardin paused, considering what he should do. Both the longing and the shame had faded to the point where he didn't feel so uncomfortable, and rather than taking up his own blanket and moving for the night, he settled himself back in a more neutral position beside Sydney.

Staring up into the trees, his hands resting upon his chest, he wondered if he'd ever come to the point where he could accept this new role that he'd stepped into, rather than shrinking from it. Sydney was right, and a man's independance could be broken easily beneath the standards imposed by Valendian society, particularly when it came to the nobility. But with all his charm and his power, Sydney had the ability to break a man's beliefs just as easily. That was why Hardin was here with him, after all - because he had been broken beyond repair. There were only a few things left to break before he could forget the past and look to the most unexpected of futures, and Sydney could do it without effort, just as he had already shattered and cleared away everything Hardin had continued to hold to of his former life.

A thought occurred to him, and he turned his head slightly. This time, Sydney kept his eyes closed, but Hardin knew from the rate of his breathing that he was not asleep. "...Sydney," he began. "There must have been a time when... when you too were... afraid."

Sydney nodded slightly, but still did not open his eyes. "As I said, we were born into the same world, you and I."

He did not elaborate further, and before long, his breathing fell into a steady rhythm that told Hardin he slept. Despite his own weariness, Hardin found he could not do the same, until long after the first watch had ended.


End file.
